People Watcher
by zoey21q
Summary: An outsider's point of view on things...fluff. Lots and lots of fluff.


**I type at 2:04 am eastern standard time the product of mild insomnia and way too much Diet Coke. The fluffiness of this is almost unbearable, and I know that I should branch out into other couples, maybe eve try AU (which I really want to do!) but for now, these two are the only inspiration I need. **

She was new to town. She knew nothing of the people there, or what kind of traditions the little slice of suburbia had. All she knew was that she had moved there three weeks ago into a small apartment on the edge of town—and that the people were nice enough there to hire a student at a small, successful coffee shop.

This Saturday, the town's best coffee shop—and only one as far as she could tell—was unusually busy. She liked it the best this way: it allowed her to people watch while she worked, without anyone know that she was blatantly staring at them.

Having next to no friends around, she sought familiarity in the faces of people at the shop. The people that came during her shifts became the cast of her own little television show. She made up stories for people, and built whatever she happened to overhear into that plot line. As creepy as it sounded, it was what kept her sane while she poured coffee and squirt whipped cream all day long.

Her favorite people to watch were couples. There was one pair that came in at the same time almost every day and bought exactly the same thing. They would then proceed to make their way to one of the over stuffed arm chairs in the corner and make out for up to a half hour at a time. Coffee shops were great places to get PDA on. Couples like them made her roll her eyes.

Another couple, much older, would come in at the very end of her shift, order black coffee and take a seat in the very back with their laptops in between them. To her it seemed that they never even talked, but while they stared seriously at their computers, they held hands over the table.

Her favorite couple by also held to a very strict time schedule. Seeing as they sauntered in at about three every afternoon, she assumed they were high school students. They were an adorable pair; every time she saw them come through the doors, holding hands, smiling contently, she couldn't help but smile, too. The same one always ordered for both of them and, like any modern couple, they took turns paying. They complimented each other, both in appearance and—from what she heard thanks to their seating close to the counter—in personality.

The first time they came in together, she'll admit, it seemed platonic enough. But as time went on, they stood closer together, spoke in more hushed tones (_much to her chagrin) _and just seemed more couple-esque in general. In her mind, she would have liked to believe that Valentine's Day of that year was the beginning of it all. _They shared a Cupid cookie_, she thought. _They're definitely going to get married one day._

Being an eternal optimist, she thought that about pretty much every couple who showed any emotion other than raw, PDA-inducing, lust in the coffee shop, but there was something about these two that just seemed right.

Maybe it was the fact that at the same time they could be laughing and joking like best friends, and still have that look in their eyes that screamed, 'in love.'

At the beginning of June, right after college had ended and two new shifts had started, there was a week where one half of her favorite couple wasn't there. The other was, though, but spent most of the time there looking morose, almost longing.

Thank God this didn't last long. She didn't think she could take seeing on of her—for lack of a better word—_subjects_ be sad for much longer.

Soon enough, they were a couple again, ordering their usual and sitting wonderfully within earshot of her position at the cash register.

Turns out half of her little duo had been New York bound.

"…I had breakfast at Tiffany's, I sung on a Broadway stage." The former absentee spoke with an excitement that was practically palpable.

"I love you." The words rang in her head like they were directed at her. She smiled to herself but knew there was no way of covering how she felt.

There was a silence from the other. _Wait for it…_she thought.

"I love you, too…"

Goodness gracious, she loved her job.

**I end too many stories with those three little words. I hope you liked it. PLEASE REVIEW! It makes my day…or night…no, wait, it's technically day…PLEASE!**


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